As the newlywed couple Devakī and Vasudeva rode in their chariot, Kamsa himself, Devakī’s cousin, held the reins. Suddenly, a divine voice echoed in the air, addressing Kamsa as a fool and warning him: “You are driving this woman together with her husband, but know this—her eighth child will bring about your death.” The words struck terror into Kamsa’s heart. In a fit of rage, he drew his sword, intent on killing Devakī that very moment. But Vasudeva, wise and composed, intervened. He pleaded with Kamsa, “O sinless one, do not kill the blessed Devakī. I promise you—I will hand over to you every child born from her womb.” Hearing Vasudeva’s earnest words and swayed by his promise, Kamsa relented. He sheathed his sword and said, “So be it.” Out of respect for Vasudeva’s word, he spared Devakī’s life. Meanwhile, at that very time, the Earth herself, burdened by the weight of wicked rulers and asuras, could no longer bear the oppression. In great distress, she assumed a form and journeyed to Mount Meru, where the gods were assembled. Approaching Brahmā and all the deities, Earth bowed low and, her voice trembling with both sorrow and compassion, addressed them. She spoke: “Fire is the supreme purifier of gold; the Sun is the foremost teacher among cows; and for all beings, including myself, Nārāyaṇa is the ultimate teacher. Brahmā, lord of the progenitors, ancient among the ancients, is time itself—measured in moments, instants, and intervals—yet remains unmanifest. He is present within all of you gathered here, O best of gods. The Ādityas, Sādhyas, Rudras, Vasus, the Fires, the Pitṛs, and all the world-creators led by Atri—each is but a manifestation of that immeasurable, great-souled Viṣṇu. Even Yakṣas, Rākṣasas, Daityas, Piśācas, serpents, Dānavas, Gandharvas, and Apsarases—these too are forms of Viṣṇu. “Planets, stars, constellations, the sky in all its colors, fire, water, wind, myself, and the senses—indeed, the entire universe is pervaded by Viṣṇu. Of Him who has countless forms, even day and night become oppressor and oppressed, just as waves rise and fall in the ocean. “But now, Daityas led by Kālanemi have seized the world of mortals and torment the people ceaselessly. Kālanemi, once slain by mighty Viṣṇu, has now been born as Kaṃsa, son of Ugrasena—the great Asura. Ariṣṭa, Dhenuka, Keśī, Pralamba, Naraka, the fierce Sumba, Bāṇa the son of Bali, and many other powerful and evil-minded beings have arisen in royal houses—too many for me to count. Their armies are numerous, their powers great, and over me rule the proud Daityas, mighty in strength. “O lords of the immortals, oppressed by this unbearable burden, I can no longer support myself. Therefore, I beg you—let my burden be removed, so that I, overwhelmed, do not sink into the netherworld.” Hearing Earth’s desperate plea, all the assembled gods urged Brahmā to act for the relief of Earth’s suffering. Brahmā addressed them: “Just as the Earth has spoken, so it is, O dwellers in heaven. I, Śiva, and all of you are of the essence of Nārāyaṇa. The powers that belong to Him—superiority and inferiority, oppressor and oppressed—arise only in relation to one another. Let us go to the excellent shore of the Milky Ocean. There, by worshipping Hari, we shall present our concerns to Him. “For the sake of the world, that all-pervading soul, the essence of the universe, descends to earth in a portion of His pure being and upholds righteousness.” Having thus resolved, Brahmā, the Grandfather, led the gods to the shore of the Milky Ocean. There, with focused minds, they praised the bearer of Garuḍa, Lord Viṣṇu. Brahmā prayed: “You are the two forms of knowledge, higher and lower, as the tradition declares—both with form and formless, O Lord. You are the twofold Brahman—subtle and gross, the Brahman of sound and the supreme Brahman, the very essence of all that is Brahman. You are the Ṛgveda, Yajurveda, Sāmaveda, and Atharvaveda; instruction, ritual, etymology, meter, and astrology—all these are you. The histories and the Purāṇas, grammar, Mīmāṃsā, logic, and the treatises on dharma—O transcendent one, all these are you. “Whatever is spoken about the self, its body, and its qualities, O primal Lord, is nothing other than the true nature of the self. You are the unmanifest, the indescribable, the inconceivable, without armor; of form without hands or feet, pure, eternal, and supreme beyond the highest. “You hear without ears, see without eyes; you are of many forms and yet formless. Without feet or hands, you move swiftly and grasp all; you know all and are the object of all knowledge. Subtler than the subtle, you are the true form in all. For one who perceives you, supreme knowledge arises; for the wise, nothing else is upheld except your most excellent form, O supreme self. “You are the support of the universe, the protector of the worlds; all beings are within you. Whatever was, whatever will be—you alone, subtler than the subtle, are beyond nature. The one Lord, fourfold, is the fire that receives offerings; you bestow radiance and glory upon the world. With infinite forms and eyes everywhere, you, O creator, establish the threefold step. “As one fire, unchanged in essence, blazes forth in many ways through various transformations, so you, present everywhere in a single form, manifest all forms without exception, O Lord. That one supreme, highest state of yours, which the wise see as knowable through knowledge, is unique; apart from you, O supreme self, there is nothing else—no other true form, no past or future. “You are of manifest and unmanifest nature, possessing both collective and individual forms; all-knowing, all-pervading, endowed with all power, knowledge, strength, and prosperity.” Thus did Brahmā and the gods praise Lord Viṣṇu, seeking His intervention for the relief of Earth’s heavy burden.